


Till Death

by Dandybear, Fiercest



Series: 'Till Death-verse [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: 'Till Death-verse, Aged Up, Canon Rewrite, Chad is gay relatable and tired, Everyone Knows They’re in Love, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Ishida and Rukia are salt sisters, Ishihime or Tatsuhime or OriRenji, Missing Scenes, Mutual Pining, Scene Rewrite, Series Rewrite, Slow Burn, The power of friendship, UST, canon-divergent, episode tag: death save the strawberry, plot heavy, semi-au, tbh we haven't decided what to do with Orihime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2018-12-09 22:12:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11678121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dandybear/pseuds/Dandybear, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiercest/pseuds/Fiercest
Summary: Seventeen-year-old Ichigo Kurosaki has become a superhero overnight. This entails a lot more oversight than he was lead to believe there would be. Is this his life now? Being stalked by some tiny woman, hellbent on bossing him around?(For the record: yes.)A canon rewrite fic





	1. Death & Strawberry

**Author's Note:**

> _A more detailed A/N can be found at the bottom._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> This fic began as a bitchfest between me and B. It morphed into an actual story, with plot, characters and world building. Go figure. With only mild disrespect to Kubo’s vision, we present a reimagining of Bleach.
> 
> -Fi

Spring is supposed to be a time for new beginnings. Plants peak out of the earth, cherry blossoms fall, a new school year begins and it rains every other goddamn day.

Seventeen-year-old Ichigo Kurosaki hates the rain. It makes his skin itch and his hands clammy. The worst days of his life are tied to drenched shoulders and tears mixing with rainwater. When it rains, more than one kind of ghost comes out to roam. And ghosts have a way of finding Ichigo.

Ichigo is about to learn a little more about the world. From here on out, everything changes. But for today, he feels...

* * *

Amazing. It’s the only word to describe it. There is a rhythm to fighting that Rukia cannot replicate in melody. She hums as she attacks. Her legs step to an unheard beat as she flies to and fro, perplexing the dumb creature. It roars and her heart does an internal aria.

Rukia has always been meant to do this. Most days she thinks it’s the only thing she does well.  
  
Hollow, merely a whisper in the wind now, she turns to the frightened spirit crouching by the mailbox and thinks, _well, maybe not the only thing._  
  
She is not a nurturing woman by nature, but she does what she can to soothe him. Rukia likes the feeling of heavy hands on her head, fingers ruffling her hair, memories of a bygone age. So, she does this for the child-spirit. He seems to take comfort before she releases him to the next life. She hopes that he will not be hungry. She wishes him weakness.  
  
Rukia looks up and around her when it’s done. The humans mill around, none the wiser for having narrowly escaped a soul-sucking death. For a moment, she thinks she makes eye-contact with a bearded man in a white coat and quickly realizes that she imagined it. His eyes skip over her and he continues his stroll down the street  
  
She has been in Karakura for a week. It isn’t loneliness per se but she feels distinctly invisible. Her voice has started to hoarse from disuse. That’s why she started singing to herself as she fights. No one can hear her anyway, who would mind?

* * *

“Ichigo.”

Ichigo squints as he stares into the sun.  
  
“What are you looking at?” asks Tatsuki, around a mouthful of kebab.  
  
He blinks to adjust his eyes and shakes his head, trying to shake off the strange feeling of being watched.  
  
“Nothing.”  
  
There was no black butterfly on the horizon. There was no one atop the telephone pole. He’s just tired. That’s what he tells himself.

* * *

Ichigo tells himself a lot of things. Especially these days.

That is to say, it looks like he’s talking to himself. Like. All the time.

What he’s really doing is chatting with the weird old cat lady spirit who refuses to leave until the last of her cats are adopted from the pound. Despite the fact that they ate her corpse. He knows this detail because she tells him every time he passes the shelter.

Sometimes it’s not Mrs. Hojou, but Mina, who is creepily keeping her eye on her ex, who moved on too quickly for her tastes.

More often than not it’s Mr. Agano. Ichigo doesn’t know what his deal is but he seems lonely and spends every Tuesday following him around. He learns very quickly to schedule things that require concentration on any other day.

Ichigo works his life around the drifting strangers who can’t seem to leave him alone.

This is how he notices that something is amiss.

He spends next Tuesday alone.

Raito, the teenaged boy who lives beside the river is gone too.

The ghosts of Karakura Town have slowly begun to disappear.

It takes him weeks to realize why.

* * *

Someone is singing. It’s a song that’s been playing on every radio lately and god is he sick of it. Whoever it is, she’s basically screaming it between grunts.

Ichigo rounds the corner and sees her. And it.

Holy shit.

A fucking monster the size of a city block is snapping its jaws at the ghost who he brings flowers to. The white of its mask is stark against the clear blue sky. Its black leathery body moves with speed that belies its size.

Between Ichigo and the beast is a girl.

She leaps out of the way just in time to avoid the monster’s fist come down and leave a crater in the ground. She does a backflip over it, draws her sword and HOLY SHIT DID SHE JUST FUCKING FLY?

Wait. Stop. **Rewind**.

This is the moment that Ichigo Kurosaki’s life changes forever.

Rukia Kuchiki is 4”10, pale as seafoam and as deadly as anything he’s ever seen. And she is singing about love and bunnies at the top of her freaking lungs.

This is fate, but he doesn’t know that yet.

With a slice of her katana (?!?!?) the thing is neutralized. She is still singing.

Ichigo is mildly aware that he is gaping. He looks around to see if anyone’s around, if anyone else is staring. There are, but none of them have so much as fliched. Well, he supposes that he’s used to seeing things at this point.

It is in this moment that Rukia looks up and the tune ends. Her brows furrow as if squinting into the distance. Their eyes meet and Ichigo remains frozen in place. She opens her mouth as if to say something but a roar cuts through the air.

And then she’s gone, as if blurring out of existence.

Huh.

That. was. _weird_.

* * *

Ichigo arrives home to a kick in the face. Literally.

“Where the hell have you been?!” His father demands, putting him in a headlock.

“I ran into some ghosts okay? What the hell was I supposed to do?!”

“Oh, so it’s the ghosts’ faults huh? I bet it’s a ghost’s fault that your room is a mess, huh?”

While they shout each other down, the two girls at the table sigh simultaneously. Karin, the younger one, spoons more rice into her bowl and pretends she can’t hear them. Karin pretends that she can’t hear a lot of things.

“You’ve got another one Ichigo,” she mutters.

“Huh?” an older gentleman appears over Ichigo’s shoulder. “When the hell did you get here?” He tries to wave him away. He’s done with spirits for the day, thank you very much.

“I wish I could see spirits,” sighs Yuzu, “I mean, I can feel them sometimes but-”

Karin is kind of glad she cant. “I’m not even sure they exist.”

“How can that be? Can’t you see them too?”

“I’m in permanent denial. Just because I can see them, doesn’t mean I believe in them.”

* * *

Here’s the thing about breaking and entering. It doesn’t count unless someone sees you.

And no one in Karakura Town can see her.

Rukia has developed a kind of selective hearing. She moves through the world of the living while ignoring the living. In the beginning, she’d look up if it sounded like someone was talking to her, but no one ever was. Slowly it got easier to tune it all out.

It’s been peaceful. The 13th division is so loud. And it’s a different kind of quiet than the Kuchiki mansion.

So when she walks through the wall and lands in the middle of a bedroom that smells like dirty socks and cologne, the last thing she expects is to literally have her ass kicked.

“How strange. You look normal, but you must be defective in some way,” she remarks while examining him like a specimen on a slab in Squad 12.

“I’ll show you defective!”

Rukia tries, she really does. Humans are very strange and this one is not very receptive to simple explanations. Are they all slow, or is it just this one?

And then he touches her hair and ohhhhh was that a mistake.

“Bakudo #1, SAI!”

“What the hell did you do to me?!”

“Don’t struggle, it’ll make it worse. I might appear young to you but I have lived nearly 10 of your lifetimes. I would kill you on the spot if it weren’t against my orders,” a lie, but on some level she thought it might be fun to rattle this one. “Now shut up, you little brat.”

It’s only after she brings the hilt of her sword down on the wayward spirit that she realizes she’d scared the human. She feels bad for a moment but presses on.

“Now, for why I’m here. I’ll explain using small words.”

And maybe some informative drawings.

* * *

So you know those days, that change your whole life?

Ichigo Kurosaki is having one of those days; a terrible one.

His hands are free from the kidou but he’s still helpless. Yuzu is unconcious in the house somewhere, Karin is unmoving in his arms and this tiny woman who sings bad pop songs while she fights is dodging around the grappling fists of what she calls a hollow.

The hollow had said that it wanted his soul. It was looking for him, all this time. He brought flowers to a ghost and that made her a target. This thing has been following him all this time, but why?

The same reason it took Karin but not Yuzu; they can see it. Something deep inside them calls out to these creatures. Like a dinner bell.

The hollow grazes the shinigami’s side just as she gets what looks like a critical hit. She skids across the street as she falls.

Intellectually, Ichigo has seen what she can do. She might as well leap tall buildings in a single bound. But she’s so small, and every instinct he has tells him that makes her someone he should be protecting.

Ichigo glances around for a weapon. To his right there’s a folding chair from the clinic. He picks it up and darts over to the beast. Maybe he can distract it, maybe he can help.

He knows he can’t, but maybe if it takes him it’ll leave his sisters alone. “HEY!” he shouts, “You want me? Come and get me!”

The hollow obliges.

So does Rukia, although, less happily.

She disappears from behind the creature and reappears in front of him, just in time for the monster’s jaws to clamp around her and her sword, instead of him.

“You idiot!” she shouts in pain.

He feels blood on his face. He doesn’t know why he’s thinking about this, but it’s surprisingly warm. He didn’t think a goddess would bleed.

With a surge of strength the girl shoves the hollow back. It has a large crack down the center of its bone white face. She clutches at her wound and crawls to lean against the crumbling wall of the clinic.

“Oh I am going to kill you when this is over,” she promises with a wet laugh.

“Go ahead and try,” he jokes. He’s trying to stop the bleeding but his hands aren’t big enough.

The hollow looms.

Her sword clatters to the floor beside her. Ichigo dives to pick it up. His right hand wraps around the grip. It’s surprisingly cold. It chills him to his bones. He tries to lift it up to defend them from the advancing monster but it’s too heavy. He physically cannot budge it and the more he tries, the colder the sword becomes; until it burns.

“Ichigo, do you want to save your family?”

As she says his name, he realizes that he doesn’t know hers.

“Shinigami-”

“Rukia, my name is _Rukia_ ,” she sighs and looks at the hollow, still trying to recover. “Will you do whatever it takes?”

“I’d do anything.”

“Then you’re going to have to trust me. I’m sorry.”

And then.

_And then._

The pain radiates out from his chest, into every nerve ending. But it’s the sweet kind of pain that builds to a crescendo and releases with a breath.

Black robes swirl around him. In his hands is a sword.

Somehow he knows exactly what to do.

* * *

In the morning he wonders if he dreamed the whole thing.

But then she appears in homeroom.

His classmates’ chatter turns into a faint buzzing in his ears as he looks down at her. Her voice is saccharine, she bats impossibly thick eyelashes. With her slight form and girlish voice, she looks harmless, introducing herself to the boys using outdated and formal Japanese.

The illusion is shattered by a glance at the palm she’s held out to him. Smeared already, black ink spells out:

**‘Make a scene and you’re dead :)’**

Charming.

His lips form around the word, “You.”

Her smile is sinister.


	2. A Shinigami's Work and The Older Brother's Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Orihime Episode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ao3 eating all of my beautiful formatting makes me a very sad person.
> 
> as always, please leave a nice comment to let us know what you think.

Here’s a thing that Ichigo does not yet know: This will become a trend in their relationship. Maybe if he had known that, he wouldn’t have set the precedent but oh well, here we are.

 

Ichigo follows Rukia into the courtyard and tries not to break a tooth when she frustrates him to the point of grinding his teeth.

 

“So you want to tell me what the fuck is going on?”

 

And as the strange girl explains what the fuck is going on, Ichigo can’t help but feel an odd sense of deja vu, like he’s heard this all before.

 

God she’s bossy.

 

He closes his eyes and breathes. 

 

“So, since you were so eager to take my powers, I need you to do my job while they return over time.”

 

“I’m a highschool student, this isn’t some kind of work-study thing where I can just  _ be  _ a grim reaper. I’m busy!”

 

“Well, that’s too fucking bad, Ichigo.”

 

Their voices are raising and colour rises up his neck as he feels eyes on them. He knows how this is gonna look. Him, the big mixed thug with the angry eyes cornering the sweet, baby-faced new girl. Rukia’s got him in a social trap with no way out.

 

“I’m not doing this.” He says with finality, shoving his hands into his pockets and turning his back to her.

 

“Oh yes you are.” She follows, arms like knives.

 

“You can’t make me.” 

 

“Watch me.”

 

Years of karate practice with Tatsuki have not prepared him for the speed that she uses to grab his wrist and pin his arm behind his back. He yelps, tears beading at the corners of his eyes.

 

“Wow, this must be really embarrassing for you.”

 

The bell rings and students come flooding out into the courtyard. With them comes relief from Rukia’s twist hold, she keeps her hand wrapped around his wrist.

 

“Ichigo, where did you go?” Tatsuki is first to spot them.

 

Her eyes narrow and dart to their joined hands. Rukia titters.

 

“Oh, Ichigo was just showing me where everything is.”

 

He rolls his eyes. She’s laying it on  _ thick . _

 

Tatsuki’s suspicion doesn’t let up. He isn’t surprised. Out of everyone in Karakura, he’s known her the longest. He’d be more alarmed if he were privy to the thoughts currently running through her head.

 

He’s seventeen, he had to start noticing girls sometime, she shouldn’t be shocked.

 

Tatsuki is nothing if not a good friend so she waves them off and turns away before either can see her smirk.

 

As soon as she’s out of earshot Rukia yanks on his arm so hard that he swears it dislocates. She pulls him out of sight of the student exodus.

 

“You listen to me and you listen good. You and this town are my responsibility. I never shirk my responsibilities. Ergo, you will do as I say or I will make your life a living hell. And I’m not so sure about the living part.”

 

“What, you’d kill me?”

 

“I would if it weren’t against my orders.”

 

_ Bullshit _ .

 

But the look in her eyes makes him unsure.

 

Rukia withdraws something from her pocket. It’s a red fingerless glove with a flaming skull emblazoned on the back. She pulls it on and the red leather creaks as her hand flexes. There is something ominous in her face. Like a viper, she strikes. She slaps him in the face so hard that he has an out of body experience.

 

_ Literally . _

He suddenly discovers that his body is on the ground, three feet to his left.

 

Rukia seems pleased with herself. Ichigo is less than.

 

He screams.

 

\---

 

There are many lessons that Rukia will impart to him over the course of their acquaintance, but this one is the most important.

 

The skittering noise of six sharp legs, the screams and cries of a little spirit boy, the cool calculating gaze of an impartial observer.

 

Ichigo hates her in this moment. He hates her like he’s hated no one else. Like he’s hated nothing but the cruelty that took his mother from him. She stares at him impassively, waiting, while a soul screams for help. She checks him. She stops him. She will not let him save him.

 

This is extortion of the highest order. This is blackmail and bribery and horrendous in its impartiality.

 

She taunts him with his own words. “That boy is a complete stranger, isn’t he?”  _ And you don’t want to be responsible for the souls and lives of strangers. _

 

But he’s  _ right there _ .

 

“Leave him be,” she commands and he grows roots. “For a shinigami, all spirits in this world are equal. You can’t get involved just because they’re nearby and need help. Who are you to decide who is and is not worth saving? You save them all, or you save _ none of them _ . You have to be willing to do whatever it takes, even sacrifice your own life. That is the duty of a shinigami. What’s it going to be?”

 

_ He hates her. He hates her so much. _

 

He saves the boy.

 

_ He did it because he wanted to. He  _ did _. _

 

Later, Ichigo sits on his bed, trying to read. It’s a hot september night. The festering fury in his gut has turned to stone and weighs him down. He feels as if he’ll sink through his bed, straight to hell.

 

Is this his life now? Being stalked by some tiny woman, hellbent on bossing him around?

 

(For the record: yes.)

 

The worst part is, on some level he knows she’s right.

 

Ichigo Kurosaki does not understand Rukia Kuchiki yet. He does not know how much it all matters, can have no concept of protection, starvation, life and death. Not the way she does.

 

This one day will shape his entire worldview. Ichigo is a protector at heart. He has done everything in his power to shield his sisters, especially Karin-

 

But suddenly the world is bigger. And he is responsible for the souls that inhabit it. “‘You save all of them or none of them’ huh?” He sighs and a slow smile blooms. “Guess it’s gonna be a busy year.”

 

_ Ring ring ring. _

 

“What the-”

 

“Ichigo!” His closet door slides open and Rukia bursts from its depths.

 

“What the hell are you doing?!”

 

“No time, we’ve got orders.”

 

“Orders?!”

 

“Get down!”

A cold hand on his chin and a shove. A giant, scaly arm misses him by inches. There she goes, saving his life again.

 

\---

 

Rukia was not expecting this. The anger she feels at herself is dwarfed for a few hours by her own practicality, but in the dark isolation of a stranger’s closet, she has the time to think.

 

She always does this. She never looks before she leaps. She’s always getting ahead of herself, doing whatever fool thing comes to mind. ‘ _ Why are you like this?’ _ She grumbles to herself. She never learns. Her duty as a shinigami is to defend the living, place them above her own life… but the human boy was right, that’s not what she was thinking when she placed herself between him and the jaws of death. It was instinct.

 

Stabbing him was calculated though.

 

She’d decided to give him half her powers, temporarily. Instead, an approximate most-of-them had been sucked right into him.

 

Rukia flexes her fingers and feels the reiatsu coursing through them. She’s weak. She probably shouldn’t leave the gigai. She wonders if she can still do kido? Maybe she should find herself a weapon, if today is any indication.

 

_ Ring ring ring _

 

Well, no time like the present for a test drive.

 

“Ichigo!”

 

\---

 

She finds that she can’t fly. Not surprising, but still very frustrating. This probably has a lot to do with the gigai. Its lung capacity is truly horrendous and where have all her muscles gone? Pathetic.

 

Ichigo carries her the rest of the way to Inoue’s.

 

Rukia’s gratified to know that she hasn’t lost her wits and instincts at least.

 

They fight for and against Inoue’s brother. Poor Orihime takes it all in better stride than expected, but then again, she’s a unique young woman.

 

As Sora vacillates between feral and sane, Rukia holds and defends her in turn. She discovers that she can do very basic kido when she pins the hollow’s arms behind his back, long enough for him to confess to a higher power controlling him.

 

That night Rukia sees a different side of Ichigo, the side she’d glimpsed on the night they met: the older brother, the protector. She knew it. Now if she could just teach him to expand that sphere, she’d make a shinigami of him yet.

 

She needs to prepare him, if she’s right about what’s coming. Inoue’s brother was being controlled by a powerful hollow. This does not bode well for Karakura town, not with her sidelined and an inexperienced teenaged boy left as its protector.

 

“Kuchiki-san?” Orihime’s voice wobbles as she addresses her. Rukia snaps out of her revery. She should put the mask back on. She should smile and gleam with innocence. But she doesn’t have the energy.

 

“Yes Inoue? What is it?” She tries to make her voice kind, but from the look on Ichigo’s face she must miss the mark. He lays Tatsuki’s prone form on a bed of pillows and returns to their circle.

 

Tears brim and eyes turn downcast. She feels bad, but doesn’t know how to fix it. “Could you… um…”

 

Ichigo lays a hand on the girl’s trembling shoulder and tries to soothe her.

 

“Will you stay with us tonight?” Rukia doesn’t know who looks more surprised, her or Ichigo. “I would feel a lot safer if you stayed. Please?”

 

How could she say no to that face?

 

Rukia steps over Tatsuki’s sleeping form. Orihime’s been kind enough to loan her a T-shirt that dwarfs Rukia like a dress. Were Tatsuki awake, she’d be getting an eye-full, but the girl sleeps like a rock.

 

“We should move to the kitchen if we want to talk.” Orihime says quietly.

 

Rukia looks at the glass of water that  she just brought from the kitchen and closes her eyes in defeat.

 

“Okay.” She shrugs.

 

Once they’re settled, she decides to be direct. “I’m Rukia Kuchiki, a Soul Reaper in charge of protecting Karakura.”

 

“I figured you weren’t really a new student. I’ve seen enough anime to know that the mysterious new student who shows up in the middle of the year is almost always a demon or something.” Orihime says matter-of-factly.

 

“What’s anime?” Rukia says.

 

“You know, cartoons?” Orihime says.

 

Rukia nods, still mystified.

 

“You know, like Chappy the Rabbit?” Orihime says.

 

Rukia tilts her head. Orihime pads off to another room and returns with a lunch box. On it is a set of colourfully drawn characters, particularly a rabbit giving a thumbs up. Rukia gently takes it from Orihime and presses her face against the bunny.

 

“Amazing.” Rukia nods with actual understanding this time.

 

“There’s a television show too if you’d like to watch.”

 

Orihime leads her to the couch and searches through her old VHS tapes. When she finds the correct one she holds it over her head in triumph. “This was my favourite show!”

 

After a few episodes and mutual squeals of excitement at the cuteness, Rukia comes away with a new love and  they settle into a companionable silence.

 

“So, you’re from somewhere really different than here?” Orihime says.

 

“It’s different enough for a culture shock, I guess.” Rukia says.

 

Orihime’s digging through the cupboards with purpose. She pulls out a box of brown crackers, a bag of white cylinders, and a bar of chocolate.

 

“Do they have s’mores where you come from?” Orihime says.

 

“I beg your pardon?” Rukia says, eyes glued to the TV.

 

“You are gonna love these. I usually love making them with red bean paste and pocky, but I don’t have those ingredients.” She says.

 

“Okay.” Rukia says, because she doesn’t really know how to respond to that.

 

She hears the ‘tic-tic-tic’ of Orihime turning the stove on and turns her head in the direction of the flame. Orihime pushes one of the white cylinders onto a chopstick and holds it over the flame. It must be some kind of sausage.

 

“Oh no!” Orihime says as the white thing catches fire.

 

Rukia jumps up from where she’s sitting to help. Orihime just blows it out with a quick breath. She shoots Rukia a reassuring smile. Rukia makes the decision to stay with Orihime so long as the girl is dealing with something dangerous like fire.

 

She cooks it a little longer then pokes it. It bounces to her satisfaction.

 

Rukia leans against the counter and watches as Orihime arranges the crackers and a piece of chocolate. She then presses the white thing between the arrangement she’s made and pulls it off the stick with the aid of the crackers.

 

It looks sticky and smells sweet.

 

Orihime offers it to Rukia, “Here. Try.”

 

Rukia doesn’t really trust Orihime’s cooking, but she doesn’t want to be rude to her host. With a barely concealed wince, she takes a bite.

 

It’s crumbly and sticky and sweet. Rukia struggles to maintain its structural integrity long enough to eat it. Instead, she gets crumbs on her shirt and white goo stuck to her fingers. She sucks them when she’s done.

 

Orihime is back at the stove, roasting another white thing.

 

“Good?” She says with a smile.

 

“What are these white things?” Rukia says, checking the bag.

 

“Marshmallows. They’re really good with curry.” Orihime says.

 

Rukia texts Ichigo,  _ We need marshmallows. _

 

He replies with,  _???? okay??? _

 

Orihime makes two more each and then sits on the floor in front of the TV. Rukia lies on her belly with a pillow under her chest and the bag of marshmallows in one hand.

 

It’s the time of night when it doesn’t matter how interesting the thing you’re watching is, you can’t bring yourself to fully pay attention. So, this is what true exhaustion feels like. Rukia stretches her toes. Were she human, her body would be covered in bruises. Like Orihime’s. Rukia eyes the bloom of purple and green on the other girl’s calf and eats a solemn marshmallow.

 

“Do you have a family, Rukia-chan?” Orihime says.

 

“I lost my sister Hisana when I was a baby, I don’t even remember her.” Rukia says. This is uncharacteristic of her, to speak without thinking. She hasn’t been so rash in years.

 

She’s making eye contact with the rug that she’s picking lint from. Orihime covers Rukia’s hand with her own.

 

“That must have been awful.” Orihime says.

 

Rukia shrugs in forced nonchalance.

 

“She married my older brother and they adopted me.” Rukia says.

 

“So, it all turned out well then?” Orihime says.

 

“I guess you could say that.” Rukia says, rolling onto her side to stare at the wall.

 

Orihime doesn’t question further. Rukia can hear her bite into a s’more.

 

“It really isn’t the same without the coating of bean paste.” Orihime sighs.

 

Rukia can’t help but feel like that isn’t the real reason for her melancholy.

 

Later, they’ve returned to Orihime’s bedroom. Rukia lifts Tatsuki up and onto the bed. She’s glad to have enough strength for that at least. She takes her former place on the pile of extra pillows.

 

“Tatsuki’s so good, always watching out for me.” Orihime says, looking over at the dozing girl, “Do you have anyone in your life who watches out for you like that?” Orihime immediately begins to chastise herself for the implication. “Not that you need someone to watch out for  _ you _ Kuchiki-san! I mean, you’re so strong and everything. And I suppose for now you have Kurosaki-kun, until your powers return, that is, I-”

 

“I had someone like that once.” Rukia sighs. It’s been a long time since anyone asked her how she felt about anything. It’s been so long since she had a confidante. But why this silly human girl? Perhaps because she’s so strong. Who, after what she’d just been through, could stay up talking and making a stranger laugh? “I miss him sometimes, but we went our separate ways.”

 

Orihime looks so sad as she says this. 

 

“Don’t worry about me. I’m alright. I’m always alright.”

 

It’s almost dawn when Orihime finally cries. “He was a good older brother.”

 

And Rukia, who knows nothing of good older brothers, hugs her and pats her head as if she understands.

 

\---

 

That night, Ichigo dreams. Buildings tower sideways, the sky is clear and blue. A woman in white stands five blocks above him. She regards him with a cold stare but remains silent. He does not know her name but with every fiber of his being, he knows that he should.

 

It starts to snow.


	3. Cursed Parakeet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo is an introvert, Chad's a good guy, Rukia doesn't mind her own business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda bummed that Ichiruki month is over :( 
> 
> So we gave you an extra long chapter and some fluff!

_He was five years old when his mother moved the family to Karakura, so he has very few memories of the time before._

_His life changed swiftly. His new preschool was, in a word, monochromatic. There were at least a couple other mixed kids at the other one, but he was the only one here. His mom was happier, that was good. Yuzu wasn’t sick as often, Mom said that being out of the city smog helped. One day he suddenly had a father._

_Or maybe that’s just the blur of young memories._

_._

_._

 

It’s been a really long week. He hasn’t been sleeping much, what with his new Soul Reaper duties. Weirdly, Mizuiro’s been getting on his nerves, but he has no idea why. _And_ he’s not really getting this section in Maths, so he’s going to have to do some extra legwork to figure it out. Plus Tatsuki’s been going through something so it’s not like he can ask her, like he usually would.

 

Also, he lives with a raging maniac.

 

Well… another raging maniac, but this one lives in his closet, not down the hall, so it’s twice as annoying and he gets zero respite.

 

It’s only Wednesday and he feels like he’s counting down the seconds until the weekend. All he wants is some quiet time to himself. He wants to sleep, finish his homework and maybe read something for fun instead of class for a change.

 

Ichigo’s already reached his threshold for social interactions and he has two days to go.

 

He’s not going to survive this week.

 

.

.

 

One moment she’s sweetly feigning interest in Keigo’s prattle, the next she’s shouting for Ichigo to pull himself together after having his arm nearly ripped from its socket.

 

Such is the duality of Rukia. The former freaks him out more than the latter.

 

Ichigo gets used to her. Rukia’s around _all the time_ , she is inconveniently, _loudly_ present. She doesn’t have to say anything. Her existence is loud. He was studying on his bed instead of his desk the other day. She appropriated his desk chair, wheeled it close to the bed and used his spine as a footrest as she blew through his collection of manga. When he complained, she actually _shushed him_. “I’m at a really good part and you’re distracting!”

 

_“...!”_

 

He’s used to the real her; the pushy, stubborn drill sergeant. He acts on her say-so. It’s the sparkly, girly princess that freaks him out. He has no idea what to do with that. Every day it’s like stepping into the twilight zone and _how has nobody noticed how fake it all sounds?_ He’s the only guy who’s made it out of Plato’s cave. He wants to physically shake his classmates and shout _“Don’t you realize it’s all just bullshit shadows on the wall?!”_

 

He doesn’t, but he really feels like it.

 

This is what his life has come to.

 

Normalcy is running around the city in the dead of night, searching for monsters to slay. Normalcy has become acting on orders delivered by text-message and bunny-shaped shadows.

 

.

.

 

Normally Rukia wouldn’t fraternize with the humans, but Orihime makes it very hard to keep her distance. She invites her into the inner sanctum of high school girl-dom, a complex set of social systems that Rukia has zero experience with. It’s surprisingly lovely.

 

She can be completely genuine with exactly _none_ of them, but it’s still nice.

 

They eat lunches on the roof, tangential to the boys. They stand at each other’s desks between classes. They escort each other on routine errands, simply for the pleasure of each other’s company.

 

**????**

It’s baffling, but fascinating (she’ll never admit it, but it makes her feel warm inside). And mimicking the girls does wonders for the authenticity of her acting.

 

Orihime looks at her askance every once in awhile, but she seems to understand the principle. She never addresses it in private anyway.

 

The boys and girls occasionally drift together. This is in part due to Tatsuki and Ichigo’s friendship and in part due to the conventional social mores of the human world that dictate that genders must interact, but never fully integrate.

 

She likes Chad, he’s sweet and quiet, clearly very intelligent and has a sparse way with words that she finds refreshing. Keigo is a massive idiot, but there are worse things to be. Mizuiro seems very sweet, but he’s always asking her to help him with schoolwork and tends to sit very close as she badly explains grammar structure.

 

Ichigo is Ichigo.

 

“Rukia, I made cookies for everyone!” Orihime jolts her from her contemplations to remind her that there are worse casts of characters to be among.

 

Then she takes a bite and valiantly tries not to spit out the edamame chip cookie.

 

.

.

 

Chad’s a very large young man. He’s also Mexican. He tends to stand out in crowds, particularly in a population like Japan. He’s quiet, so people tend to forget he’s even around. They’ll say things in front of him, thinking he’s not listening. Or worse, they think he’s too stupid to understand what they’re saying.

 

He speaks three languages, but whatever.

 

So when Ichigo and Rukia run off together for the third time in a week and the guys immediately turn to gossiping hens, he figures no one’s expecting a response from him. He sighs. People should really learn to mind their own business… then again he’s a hypocrite, he’s just not asking his questions out loud.

 

Whatever.

 

Maybe his mind’s just under occupied these days, but he’s been contemplating the mysterious case of the delinquent and the new girl. Specifically, with respect to the ghost problem that Ichigo’s been dealing with for as long as he’s known him. It’s not that he’s seen them do anything suspicious, but the Kurosaki clinic was destroyed and the next day Rukia Kuchiki shows up at school? A prissy, perky, pretty girl appears and suddenly Ichigo’s asking her how high he should jump? Chad sees her for what she is, because they’re the same. She’s quiet because she is always listening, her attention is eerily laser focused.

 

After school he goes to his part-time job at the library. Today is Wednesday so it’s Reading Circle for the daycare kids whose parents work late. Chad has been slowly making his way through _Howl’s Moving Castle_ , chapter by chapter. It’s taking him twice as long because he reads the chapters in Japanese, then English, but he thinks it’s worth it. He likes Sophie, she’s very sensible. That is a girl for whom words have weight and meaning.

 

After that he meets up with some of the guys he’s played a couple gigs with.

 

“Give him to Chad,” says one, of a supposedly cursed Cockatiel.

 

Chad sighs, “what’s your name?” _he_ is _awfully cute._

“Yuichi Shibata, what’s your name mister?” And then a metal beam falls on his head.

He’s nothing if not polite though, so he introduces himself.

 

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Sado Yasutora.”

 

.

.

 

Rukia is always flexing. She’s always testing her limbs and joints, stretching and pulling at them, trying to find their limits. She feels too big for her skin, too strong for her fragile bird bones. This body is not real but it’s her reality.

 

The human boy took her powers. She’d only meant to give him a little, just enough to end the fight. Turns out, she miscalculated. And now she’s living on dwindled reserves and the foreseeable future looks like a long, winding wait for her powers to return.

 

But they _will_ return. Little by little.

 

At first, she could feel herself getting stronger by the day. She has recovered enough that she can do the most basic kidou: mild restraints and minimal healing. It’ll probably be months until she’s recovered! _Months_ in the human world, with a boy left to do her work.

 

So she flexes, she tests the limits of her strength and gains micrometers where she can.

 

In the meantime, at least she’s learning leadership skills.

 

.

.

 

There’s an adjustment period. They aren’t quite working like a well oiled machine yet. That’s the thing with new partnerships, they have to learn their roles. They’re treading new ground together and some growing pains are to be expected. And then there are some details that turn into unexpected issues.

 

.

.

 

The can rattles as she shakes it in her hand, the sound makes her heart race. Tatsuki bites her lip, planning her first stroke. The side of the bare building is a blank canvas, her canvas. She wears gloves while she does it. Intent on keeping the evidence off her fingers. A bright splash of orange against white stucco.

 

Her mother thought painting classes would be a good enough creative outlet. Don’t get her wrong, it did give her the skills to pull this off.

 

A big, orange asterisk. The start of a dandelion. She shakes her can of yellow, setting the orange down. It tips onto its side and rolls deeper into the alley.

 

“Shit.” Tatsuki mutters, following the can.

 

It stops against the sole of a shoe. Tatsuki’s eyes trail up from the shoe to some legs, then a torso. Her mouth goes dry and she chokes when she sees the face.

 

Ichigo, slumped against a dumpster. His eyes are open and glassy. She doesn’t see his chest moving.

 

She stands there for who knows how long before her brain gets her body to react. She presses her thumb to his pulse, but all she can feel is her own heart hammering against her thumb.

 

“Ichigo.” She quavers, grabbing him by the arms and shaking him. He’s warm, but not very.

 

“Ichigo!” Tatsuki slaps him across the face. His head flops, limp.

 

She covers her mouth with her hand, swallowing the whimper that lets loose her tears.

 

 _He’s dead. Oh god, he’s_ dead _just like Masaki._

 

She was supposed to protect him.

 

Her hands shake as she reaches for her cellphone. There’s a splash of orange paint on her glove and she stares at it for longer than she should.

 

She dials, but before it can ring, she hears approaching footsteps.

 

“Come on and get in there then.” The voice sounds familiar but Tatsuki’s ears are still ringing.

 

“Hello, what is your emergency?”

 

Tatsuki opens her mouth to speak when she hears Ichigo groan.

 

“Ugh, why does my face sting?”

 

“Ichigo!” She scrambles to check his eyes and throat.

 

“Get off me, wouldja.” He pushes her off.

 

“You were collapsed! I thought you were dead!”

 

“Ma’am, are you still on the line?”

 

“Thanks, we’re good. Bye.” Tatsuki hangs up. Her gaze skips between Ichigo, who is sitting slumped against the alley wall, and Rukia, who is standing off to his right. “Rukia, when did you get here?”

 

Rukia swallows, “Oh, I was just passing by!”

 

If Tatsuki had less adrenaline coursing through her system she might have questioned the validity of Rukia walking around alone at night and just _happening_ to stumble upon them.

 

“I heard you yelling and I came running!”

 

“See, that’s a good samaritan,” Ichigo means for this to sound sincere but it comes off sarcastic. Which is actually how he means it.

 

“Why don’t I help you bring him home to the clinic,” Rukia suggests, an ounce too chipper.

 

Tatsuki nods numbly and each of them grab one of his arms to sling over their shoulders. They make a comical trio, lumbering along the Karakura streets. Ichigo is utterly fine and has never felt more emasculated.

 

He tries to protest, but Rukia shuts him down. “Oh dear, you shouldn’t strain yourself Kurosaki! _I’m_ not very strong, but Tatsuki is. We’ll help you get home safe!”

 

When he gets home and his father starts gushing over his non-existent injuries, Ichigo honestly contemplates quitting. Being a superhero isn’t worth _this._

 

.

.

 

From there, things go from annoying to maddening.

 

Everyone seems to have something to say about the ‘hot new transfer student’ and the ginger thug who always seems to be hanging around her.

 

Keigo is very proud.

 

Mizuiro is overly solicitous with his promises that he’s not flirting with her, that he’s into older women.

 

For Ichigo’s part, he’s sure that Rukia is way older than even Mizuiro’d prefer but would happily step aside in favor of their future bliss.

 

.

.

 

On Thursday Chad brings his new pet to school. None of his teachers bother him about it and at lunch, his friends clamor over the strange bird with the expansive vocabulary.

 

Everyone, that is, except for Ichigo and Rukia.

 

“Chad,” asks Ichigo, tentatively, “where’d you get the bird.”

 

“A guy…”

 

This seems like a perfectly reasonable response to Chad, but Keigo is unsatisfied. “Why are you always too lazy to tell the actual story?! Some guy?! What guy? Where? Does it have to do with the car that hit you yesterday? Come on!”

 

And so it goes.

 

Ichigo continues to stare at the bird through lunch.

 

“Do you need some help with that?” Mizuiro asks, startling Ichigo out of his revery. But he wasn’t addressing him.

 

“It’s this infernal juice box!” Rukia exclaims, sounding uncomfortably too like her demanding self.

 

Ichigo sighs and takes it from her, pokes a hole with the straw and never lets his eyes stray from the bird.

 

Mizuiro throws up his hands in mock defensiveness and shoots Ichigo a sly look before turning back to the one-sided conversation Keigo and Chad are still having.

 

“You’re right you know,” Rukia says around the straw. “There _is_ something odd about that bird, but it’s not evil. It’s just lonely.”

 

Rukia knows how it feels. Lately she’s been feeling homesick for the 13th Division.

 

“We’ll take care of it tonight.”

 

“Awesome, I didn’t need to study anyway.”

 

“Is that sarcasm?”

 

“No ma’am,” he replies, sarcastically.

 

“Your friend… is he like you?”

 

“What do you mean? Mixed?”

 

“ _No,_ you idiot. Can he see spirits?”

 

“Not… that I know of.”

 

“Do you know him well?”

 

“Sure,” Ichigo scratches his nose and contemplates Chad, “Back in middle school I was already attracting a lot of… negative attention ‘cause of my hair. One day I ran into these guys who really meant business. They were gonna mess me up. Then Chad showed up. Ever since, we’ve watched each other’s backs.”

 

Rukia turns to look at the giant too.

 

“He never fights back, just stands there, puts himself between bad guys and whoever they’re trying to hurt. So-”

 

“So you fight for him,” Rukia finishes.

 

Ichigo glances at her out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah.”

 

“You’re a good friend, Ichigo.”

 

“Yeah, I come in handy.” He wouldn’t admit it, but her esteem feeds something inside him. It feels suspiciously like pride.

 

.

.

 

“What can I do?”

 

“Assume the fetal position and stay out of the way!”

 

And so it goes. Everyone in the Kurosaki household has a role to play. Ichigo gets the shit kicked out of him, Karin and Yuzu get first aid certified and help dad out in the clinic. One of these things may or may not be more useful than the other.

 

Chad comes into the clinic clutching Yuichi’s cage in a tight fist and slumping against Karin and Yuzu’s shorter statures.

 

There’s a bruise like a clawed footprint spanning Chad’s entire back, but Karin is staring at the bird.

 

.

.

 

Friday morning, Karin’s not at the breakfast table. Yuzu says she’s sick, but Karin’s never been ill _a day in her life_. There’s a sick feeling that makes him short on breath and nauseated. Worry and suspicion cloud his thoughts.

 

He knocks on her bedroom door and enters.

 

Karin is curled up on her side, sweating and clutching the blankets.

 

“Karin?”

 

“ICHIGO!” Isshin shouts from downstairs. “Chad is missing!”

 

Torn, Ichigo glances from Karin to the door and back again.

 

“Go,” she grits. “Go.”

 

He does.

 

He sprints out of the house and soon finds Rukia at his side.

 

“Any idea where he would go?”

 

“Not yet.”

 

“Ichigo.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Listen to your _heart_.”

 

“What?!”

 

“Like we practiced, feel for the bird’s soul.”

 

“...Right.”

 

He tries, he really does. He’s not so good with the sensing yet. He knows something’s wrong when he grasps at a thread, only to find himself running in circles. And then, across the way he spots Karin, slumped against the fence, struggling to remain upright. “Karin, what are you-?”

 

“Ichigo, I need- I need to tell you something.”

 

“Karin, you should go back to bed.”

 

He’s so afraid for her. Something is very very wrong. But _one crisis at a time please_.

 

And Rukia’s looking at his sister in that contemplative way that frightens him, like she’s a specimen for study, a code she can crack. He cannot let her dig too deep here, or else-

 

“Ichigo, take her back _now_ ,” Rukia commands. “I’ll go on and find Chad myself.”

 

“Are you kidding me? You’re in no condition to fight a hollow on your own. I can’t just leave you! _”_

 

Rukia purses her lips and says very seriously, “Worry about your sister for now, I can handle everything until you get there. Go, go on, the faster you get her home, the faster you can come help.” She’s about to take off before he stops her.

 

“Wait. Don’t risk yourself for my sake.”

 

She smiles at him, “A veteran soul reaper never takes unnecessary chances.”

 

This would be more reassuring if she hadn’t nearly died saving his life on the day they met.

 

.

.

 

Karin is living someone else’s nightmare. She keeps seeing things in flashes. Blood, murder, screams of terror. A red stain soaking the brightness of the morning and dripping in streaks like sunlight. There’s a little boy, a lot like her, trapped in the body of a bird. He doesn’t want to be free either.

 

He just wants his mom.

 

“You have to tell him,” she rasps, clutching her brother’s shirt. “Tell him that if he crosses over he can be with her again. His mom. Don’t let him be alone anymore.”

 

Loneliness so crushing, it stretches out into infinity and throws dust covers over every possibility.

 

.

.

 

Whatever senses Rukia has are dulled either by the gigai or her weakened state, so parsing out the soul ribbon belonging to Yuichi is difficult, but eventually she finds the thread.

 

She ends up on an empty side street when she feels a cold lick of fear slide up the back of her neck. A hollow.

 

“Mmm, I ordered chicken and I get a steak as well. How fortunate for me. Hello little Shinigami.”

 

Rukia leaps out of the way just in time to avoid the hands that strike out to trap her.

 

Well, now or never.

 

She dodges again and lands on top of it. Mustering every ounce of power she has, she fires a kidou cannon at it’s hunched back.

 

It works!

 

Giddy and triumphant she whoops. And ducks out of the way again. He misses her by a hair. She fires another cannon.

 

Suddenly, the surges of blue light emanating from her palms are joined by fists. And the roars and blasting noises joined by a chorus of cries.

 

Chad punches the hollow square in the mask and Yuichi screams for him to run away. _Can he see it?_ She wonders, before he breaks out a combo aimed at thin air. _That’s a no... He shouldn’t be fighting_ anyway _._

 

The hollow sets it’s sights on Chad. Rukia acts fast, running at him full tilt and body-checking the young man out of the way of the oncoming attack.

 

“Thanks,” Chad grunts.

 

The hollow flails in pain. She took out huge chunks of its hide with her spells, but it soon regains its faculties.

 

It laughs, “Try as much as you want, you can’t save the boy. He makes pretty good bait, don’t you think?”

 

Rukia assesses the situation. She’s weaker than she’s ever been, her only allies are a bird in a cage and a blind human who does not want to fight. She doesn’t know his reasons but she can understand that. She just needs to get behind it again, it’ll be vulnerable from the back. She also needs to get some high ground so its mask will be in her sights.

 

“Chad!” she calls, “Give me a boost!” She doesn’t give him a chance to process or respond before getting a running start at him. Fortunately, he’s a smart young man. She plants her feet in his cupped hands, “ _2 o’clock_!” and vaults into the air.

 

Rukia sails above the hollow’s head in an arc. She twists in mid-air and at the precise angle where she can see the base of it’s skull she fires the strongest cannon she can muster.

 

.

.

 

Ichigo’s arms curl under Karin’s knees and shoulders, he presses her nose into his collarbone so hard she thinks it’ll bend. She sweats and swears. Over his shoulder, like a pin of light in the encroaching darkness, she sees a woman in white. She presses a pale finger to her lips and fixes her in a steely gaze.

 

There is a ghost that Ichigo cannot see, lurking behind him.

 

Karin is no longer afraid.

 

She’s terrified.

 

.

.

 

The hollow twists at the last second but it’s a critical hit. It staggers forward and drops to its knees, giving Rukia and Chad time to regroup.

 

Rukia’s breath is ragged from exertion. She doesn’t have the energy reserves necessary to end this fight, but she can stall long enough for Ichigo to arrive.

 

They make a good team, Chad and Rukia, it takes very little verbal communication to effectively coordinate their attacks. He tosses, she twists, they deal blow after blow. She wonders if it will be enough.

 

The trapped spirit cries in his cage. He pleads with the hollow, even as they have him on the ropes. His fear has solidified into an unyielding thing. It grips at him, drags him down, prevents him from making a single move.

 

All the while the hollow takes advantage. This one likes to talk. He brags about the night they all died. He croons that Yuichi’s mother looked so beautiful with scarlet in her hair. He tells them that in her final moments she did not beg for her son, but for him to stop. He’d known many women like her, but nothing tastes as good as your last meal.

 

Chad’s stomach roils at the implications. He burns to shut him up.

 

So Chad throws all of himself into one final punch. The white mask cracks.

 

.

.

 

Karin does not know why it’s this spirit with whom she feels this strong a kinship. She doesn’t know why the last vestiges of her denial are being ripped away from her and shredded before her eyes.

 

What she knows is this:

 

Her life is wrong.

 

How did she get here?

 

.

.

 

Ichigo considers his begging sister.

 

They’re almost home.

 

He turns around.

 

.

.

 

The hollow shatters into pieces, flying apart and dissolving into nothing.

 

Chad has become fixated on his fist. He can’t look away. He is both intoxicated and frightened of his own strength. He just slayed a dragon. He just conquered an army. He summited a mountain. He has done the impossible with just this hand. Once, he swore to his Abuelo that he would never raise it.

 

He wonders if Abuelo would consider this his own defense.

 

_Never raise a hand until you have extended it._

 

But a monster cannot reach back.

 

He’s made the right decision, but it does not feel like a victory.

 

“Are you alright?” he asks both Yuichi and Rukia. The latter stares at him in shock, then calculation.

 

‘ _I’m sorry,’_ she says with her eyes. He nods.

 

Moments later, Ichigo arrives on the scene with Karin still in his arms. He sets her on her feet and looks around, searching for impending danger.

 

“It’s over,” Karin assures him breathily.

 

He looks to Rukia for confirmation, she nods too.

 

Karin approaches Yuichi and Ichigo follows close behind, at the ready in case of a fall. She kneels in front of the bird and Ichigo falls over himself trying to keep her upright.

 

“I’m fine,” improbably, Karin laughs and pushes his hands away. “Hi,” she greets the bird, more politely and patiently than she’s ever greeted a living human.

 

“Hello,” perhaps Yuichi senses their kinship too.

 

“My brother is going to take care of you now, okay?”

 

“Can I… Can I stay with Chad? He’s nice.”

 

Karin agrees, “if you want to stay, you can.” Rukia opens her mouth to argue, but at Ichigo’s quelling look, she silences herself. “I understand, I’d want to stay too. But if you move on, you can see your mom again. And there’s a whole other world waiting for you. You won’t have to be a bird anymore.”

 

“I don’t mind being a bird…”

 

“I know you’re scared,” Chad joins Karin on the curb. They make a strange picture: a giant and a tiny tomboy kneeling and conversing with a cockatiel on the side of the road, flanked by two schoolkids with grim expressions. “But everything will be okay.”

 

“And I’ll get to see her again?”

 

“Yeah,” Karin smiles and thinks of Masaki. “I’m sure she’s been waiting for you all this time.”

 

“Okay,” Yuichi agrees, “I’m ready then.”

 

Rukia pulls on her glove. Ichigo braces himself for a blow that doesn’t come. Instead, she places her hand above his heart and gives him a gentle push.

 

Ichigo falls out of his body gracefully. Chad catches him before he falls.

 

“Yo.”

 

“Hi.”

 

“...Hey.” Karin says breathlessly, looking not at his body, but at his soul. For the very first time.

 

Ichigo has five konsos under his belt, but each time is just as brilliant as the last. He gently presses the hilt of his sword to Yuuichi’s forehead (or whatever a bird has?). Aquamarine light guilds the cage and the next moment Yuuichi is gone. The bird is just a bird.

 

.

.

 

It’s Friday night and Ichigo just wants to sleep.

 

But he’s got homework.

 

He’s mentally exhausted, he’s hit his threshold, he just wants to be alone. Monday looms out in front of him like a spectre. It’s so far away but he knows he’ll blink and the reset button will be hit.

 

He taps his pencil against his notebook as he fixates on the next problem. Three more and then he can get back to the half-read novel lying cover-side down on the corner of his desk.

 

Rukia is sitting on his bed, reading Volume 2 of _Super Kaiju Maids (“_ Maids who transform into giant monsters to fight **_EVIL!”_** ), her back against the wall, feet peeking over the edge. Her head tilts sideways and eyes widen at a particularly suspenseful part. She squeaks and gasps with the twists of the plot.

 

Ichigo sighs, he’ll finish tomorrow.

 

He grabs his novel and rolls his desk chair closer to the bed. He leans back and puts his feet up, his left ankle, brushing Rukia’s thigh.

 

They read side by side well into the night.

 


	4. An Expositional Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rukia meets the family and everyone rips on Ichigo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where we're REALLY gonna start diverging from canon, so buckle up kids!
> 
> Thank you @sequencefairy for putting me back on my bullshit and dragging Ichigo down with me.
> 
> -F

 

Fall flutters through Karakura on the last warm winds of summer.

 

Before he knows it, Ichigo is inundated in schoolwork and is starting to feel the strain of too many responsibilities.

 

It’s not that he’s tired. In fact, he needs less sleep than he ever has in his life. Maybe when he’s not in his body it’s sleeping? Who knows. He’s certainly not going to question it.

 

Wait no. On second thought, he is. Rukia says he stole her ‘ _reiatsu’_ or ‘ _spiritual energy’_. What the hell is that? It’s an energy source right? But is it life source? Is it like… a soul force? Is there a finite amount of it or does it grow? Sometimes, after a bad fight he feels a different kind of tired. It’s like mental exhaustion, but not. Is that him running low on reiatsu? What replenishes it? Rest? But what constitutes rest? Certainly not sleep, he hasn’t been getting a lot of **that.** _He needs to know._

 

He asks Rukia, who has thus far been an adequate guide to weird spirit bullshit.

 

She rolls her eyes and tells him not to think about it too hard.

 

This is unusual, but Ichigo supposes she must view it as an immutable aspect of her life… death…? Whatever a Shinigami calls existence.

 

Rukia rolls her eyes again. “Life. It’s all metaphorical anyway.”

 

Which... true.

 

Ichigo sits down, hands in hair and frowning hard.  
  
"What the fuck do you mean, 'don't think too hard about it'? It's a pretty fucking important distinction to have! If I'm gonna be fighting, I should know what my limit is right?"  
  
He pauses, looking at the concrete before him.

 

"Does the limit not exist?"

 

And maybe he’s a unhealthily preoccupied with this but-

 

"What happens when a Shinigami 'dies'?" Ichigo asks.  
  
Rukia gets quiet at that. It's not her ' _shut up, fool_ ’ quiet, but the kind she gets in the late hours. Contemplative, grieving.  
  
"The same thing that happens to everything else." She says with a shrug.  
  
Ichigo squints, how the fuck does that even work then?

 

But digressions aside, Ichigo cannot share Rukia’s lack of concern. It’s all too weird. And her world makes less and less sense, the more he learns about it.

 

What was he thinking about?

 

_Right._

 

Ichigo isn’t tired, he’s just overtaxed. He has a lot going on and he hasn’t managed to neatly fit it all together yet. He’ll cope. He’s sure of it.

 

Rukia is less sure.

 

She’d been trying to be a  little more hands off with Ichigo, but seeing the strain it’s putting on the human boy compels her to return from the sidelines. She starts to take a more proactive approach to hunts and fights.

 

This places her in the center of battle. She’s in more danger this way, but she’s also more comfortable than she’s felt in the month since she lost her powers.

 

.

.

 

Ichigo throws down his pencil, unable to concentrate. He swivels around in his desk chair while staring at a dent in his ceiling. Rukia flips through her literature homework in her closet with the door open. Her legs dangle over the side of her futon and her bare toes barely graze the carpet.

 

“So what does ‘the same thing that happens to everything else’ mean?”

 

“Huh?” Rukia looks up, quirks her head to the side and squints. She runs through their past few conversations. She doesn’t know what this statement has to do with _Super Kaiju Maids,_ his inability to grow facial hair in comparison to his father or the subsequent conversation wherein he explained to her what _manscaping_ was. Or the further subsequent assurances that if he _did_ manscape, _she_ would never judge him.

 

“When shinigami die.”

 

“Oh.” It’s a delicate sound. Not surprised. Quite toneless actually.

 

“What happens?”

 

“Well, what happens when humans die? They pass on to the next life.”

 

“So when shinigami die, they pass on to another one?”

 

She quirks her eyebrow at him, questioning his intelligence, “No, they return to the living world.”

 

She holds up her notebook to display a very unhelpful doodle of some bunnies on two sides of a line, with recycling arrows indicating the direction the bunny souls would move.

 

“ _WHAT?!”_

 

“Of course. What did you think?”

 

“I don’t know what I thought, but that doesn’t make any sense! Why wouldn’t anyone remember? Do you not remember being a human?”

 

She ignores his last question. “Reincarnation cycle. Think of it like a washing machine. The linens are the same, but it gets the stains out. Same soul, new life.”

 

“So the soul is who you are.”

 

“Correct.”

 

“But who you are is shaped by your experiences, your upbringing, circumstances…”

 

“So it isn’t a perfect metaphor,” she grumbles defensively, “Your soul changes, yes.”

 

“Wait, but you said you were like 300 right?”

 

“It’s rude of you to bring that up, but yes. What does that have to do with anything?”

 

“People live way longer in the afterlife. So eventually, all the souls would end up in the afterlife, no one would be left in the living world.”

 

“Why would that be the case?”

 

“You just said-!”

 

“There is balance in everything. Not everyone is able to or chooses to live as I do.”

 

That night, Ichigo lies wide awake, sweating. “ _Laws of conservation of mass apply to souls,”_  he whispers to himself, mind still blown and _still_ unsure what the fuck a soul actually is.

 

.

.

 

This one can fly, which is hugely inconvenient.

 

It isn’t often that Ichigo would rather be studying than fighting, but this is one of those times.

 

The hollow whizzes around above their heads, swooping down to attack every once in awhile. It’s an annoying, buzzing thing. It darts in and out of his reach, draining him quickly.

 

Frustrated swings miss marginally, kidou cannons fall short or bounce off the hide.

 

Ichigo lands on the concrete after another stumble and rolls his shoulder. “Let’s just call it a day.”

 

“ _You know_ that’s not accep-”

 

“Yeah yeah,” he mumbles. It was worth a shot. Efforts renew.

 

“HEY!” the girl in the gigai shrieks, “Over here! I’m tasty and defenseless!”

 

“Subtle,” Ichigo grumbles. But hollows aren’t very bright. It takes the bait and swoops down toward Rukia, coming at her fast.

 

“On my signal,” Rukia orders.

 

It keeps coming and she still doesn’t move. With every breath the substitute grows more antsy. “C’mon c’mon c’mon.”

 

Still no signal.

 

“Fuck it,” he comes in early and comes out swinging.

 

“What are you-!?”

 

Rukia, having darted out of the way just in time, slams into Ichigo from the side. She ricochets off him and hits the pavement. Ichigo hesitates, squandering the opportunity. The hollow swerves and picks the girl up in its clawed foot.

 

“Don’t you dare!” Ichigo bellows and leaps into the air, aiming for the leg. He slices off its foot, sending it crashing to the ground… he probably could have planned that better.

 

The hollow shrieks and grounds itself. Ichigo silences its cries with one blow, disintegrating it into dust.

 

With that taken care of, Ichigo rushes to Rukia’s side. The clawed foot dissolves around her, leaving her prone on the sidewalk.  His heart pounds against his chest and he can’t feel his hands. Worry makes his vision tunnel. He doesn’t see any blood, but it occurs to him that he’s not sure gigais can bleed. He pinches her cheek, it goes pale then red when he lets go. So that answers that question.

 

“Fool,” Rukia groans. He’s so glad that she’s talking that he doesn’t even mind. She tries to sit up but cries out and clutches her arm. It’s bent at a horrible angle; definitely broken. “What’s...happening to me?”

 

“You’re hurt.” And it’s all his fault. He should have trusted her, he should have-

 

“I’d gathered that much. Why does it hurt _this bad?!_ ” She sounds more put out than anything else; as if this is an inconvenience and not a dire injury. “I hate this body.”

 

“What, you never got hurt as a shinigami?”

 

“Not often, I’m _good_ at my job,” she says, like she’s implying that he isn’t. “But it never hurt _this_ much.”

 

“Don’t lash out at me just because you’re hurt.” The thing is, it’s kind of making him feel better.

 

“Being human is awful,” she declares. And honestly, Ichigo can’t disagree.

 

.

.

 

He doesn’t want to do it. He thinks about taking her to another clinic. But there are things like insurance and her lack of documentation to consider. He wants to avoid difficult questions at all costs.

 

So he brings her home with him.

 

Rukia usually uses any opportunity to ride on his back. It’s faster and he thinks she just likes the power move. But now she doesn’t let him carry her. It’s like she’s trying to prove to him how fine she is.

 

So he walks slowly so she can keep up with little effort. Her destroyed limb dangles at her side, supported by her dominant hand.

 

Ichigo holds the front door open and for the first time, Rukia enters through it.

 

“Dad!” he shouts.

 

“YES?” They hear from a distance.

 

“Can you come down here, I need some help!”

 

“Masaki, do you hear that?! Our idiot son needs help from his father!” the rolling thunder of Isshin descending the stairs doesn’t concern Ichigo, his father’s guesses do. “Do you need advice? Do you need me to procure contraceptives?!”

 

Isshin skids across the floor of their entryway and blinks at the unexpected sight.

 

Ichigo has a steadying hand on a young girl’s good shoulder. She’s tiny and sweet faced, with calculating eyes that Isshin _should_ know better than to trust. Her left cheek is a blooming purple crocus and she has a cut through her eyebrow. Her knees are scraped raw and her left arm is demolished.

 

“Oh dear.” He hadn’t expected this. Not so soon. “Come with me.”

 

It surprises his son how professional he becomes. He leads them to the clinic and indicates one of the exam tables. He doesn’t ask what happened, which surprises the teens.

 

The examination is quick and thorough. He prods Rukia for any hidden injuries and tests out the joints in her arm.

 

Meanwhile, Ichigo distracts her with safe topics: School, The Taming of the Shrew, Chad’s next gig at a club.

 

“We’ll have to sneak you in. Me, they don’t card, but even if we could find you a fake I don’t think they’d believe us.”

 

Rukia laughs despite herself and hardly cries out when Isshin twists her humerus back into place.

 

“I heard nothing,” Isshin assures them, even though neither look worried about being busted.

 

He sets her arm and x-rays it again, just to be certain, before pronouncing her fit.

 

“Thank you Dr. Kurosaki,” Rukia preens sweetly.

 

“Of course,” he melts, “Anytime. You’ll be staying for dinner won’t you?”

 

Rukia glances at Ichigo then back at Isshin, “Oh, I don’t know… I mean...”

 

“Stay, please! I insist.”

 

Ichigo shrugs, unconcerned.

 

“It would be my pleasure, thank you.”

 

“Now tell me all about yourself! You go to school with my fool son, yes? You’re way too pretty for him, you can absolutely do better.”

 

“Hey!”

 

.

.

 

Ichigo and Rukia spend the afternoon on the couch in front of the television. She tries very hard to restrict her marvelling to when Isshin is out of earshot. In the past, she’s sneaked down to watch tv in the middle of the night or when everyone was out, but it never ceases to amaze her.

 

Despite her excitement, she soon finds that she has trouble keeping her eyes open. Isshin had given her a mild sedative to numb the pain, but she is very small and has never taken painkillers before. As she dozes, her head lolls to the side and finds Ichigo’s shoulder. He doesn’t mind. Isshin has gone back to work, so it’s not like he’ll see.

 

Eventually, the twins get home and their loud conversation rouses the shinigami from her nap.

 

She rubs her face against his shoulder and groans, “Oww.”

 

Ichigo sighs and pats her head consolingly. He’s gotta pity the girl. Plus he’s battling down no small amount of guilt. He didn’t listen and he got her hurt.

 

Ichigo was never into team sports. He preferred solo ventures. But even he knows that when the team captain says move, you do it. That’s rule number one. Next time he’ll do better.

 

“Who’s that?” Yuzu whispers not-so-quietly.

 

Karin’s reply is dry, “Some friend of his, don’t worry about it.”

 

“Do you think she’s staying for dinner?”

 

“I can hear you,” he grouses.

 

“Then answer the question,” Karin taunts.

 

“Ya.”

 

“...Ichigo brought a girl home for dinner,” Yuzu breathes in amazement. “Does he know that dad’s home?”

 

“Again, right here. I can hear you.”

 

His little sister bounds around the couch to stand in front of them. “Hi! I’m Yuzu,” Rukia rubs the sleep from her eyes with her good hand and looks up at the girl, perplexed.

 

“Rukia Kuchiki.”

 

“It’s so nice to meet you Rukia! Ichigo never brings friends over.” She prances away, headed for the kitchen. “I’ll make something special for dinner!”

 

“She’s… so friendly,” Rukia remarks, looking between the other two Kurosaki siblings. They are decidedly a different species of human. She wonders if they’re really related or if Yuzu is adopted.

 

Karin grunts and follows her sister.

 

At dinner Rukia experiences family like she’s never known it before.

 

They’re utterly ridiculous. And they _talk so much._

 

Isshin asks the girls about their days. Karin talks about soccer and her newest fascination: tech. She and her friends went to specialty store to check out all the weird new stuff. “They have one machine that brews coffee, fries eggs and toasts toast on a timer.”

 

“That’s useless, we have all of those things.”

 

“Yeah, but this is one machine,” Karin replies, as if her brother has pointed out something obviously stupid.

 

“And do you have to put the eggs and toast in the night before? Wouldn’t the eggs go bad? Does the machine flip the eggs?”

 

“Ichigo, stop poking holes in this! Karin, sweetheart, that is amazing. Let’s get one.”

 

“Hmmm,” Karin grunts, suddenly disinterested. “Nah.”

 

Yuzu asks Rukia a billion questions. She’s going to have to take notes after this dinner so she can keep her story straight.

 

Eventually, Ichigo mentions that Rukia also loves Chappy, which derails the sweet interrogation entirely.

 

Isshin waffles between being overly supportive and solicitous to all and threatening Ichigo with physical violence.

 

Overall it’s a very enjoyable evening. Even if they are the weirdest people she’s ever met. And that’s saying something.

.

.

 

“Hey Rukia?”

 

“Yes?” the grinding noise of the closet sliding open and the glare of Rukia’s lamp disrupt the darkness of Ichigo’s room.

 

“Have you ever thought about what you’d want to be when you grow up?”

 

Her exasperated reply is not unexpected. “Yes. A shinigami. I’m doing it.”

 

“No, I mean if you were human. When I was a kid I wanted to be a fireman. Or a Power Ranger.”

 

“Ichigo, it’s three in the morning.”

 

“You were awake anyway!”

 

“That’s irrelevant.”

 

Silence.

 

“You said you used to want to be a Power Ranger,” she does not question what this may be, she has learned to recognize pop culture references with context clues. She does not care. If it’s worth watching, he’ll show it to her. “What do you want to be now?”

 

He snickers, “A shinigami.”

 

He expects this to be a touching and meaningful moment for them, but Rukia snorts. “Someday you will be, perhaps concentrate on something you can manage with your human life.”

 

“Dunno, a doctor maybe? Or a writer?”

 

“You’d make a good writer.”

 

She turns out her light, but doesn’t close the closet door. He assumed that to be the end of it, but then-

 

“I would have liked to go to University.”

 

“Do you like school?”

 

“I didn’t used to. But I like it now.”

 

“Is there like, a shinigami school?” he jokes.

 

“Yes,” she replies, matter-of-factly.

 

This consequently blows his damn mind. “ _I was kidding.”_

 

“How did you think we went about learning?”

 

“I dunno, can’t say I ever thought about it too hard.”

 

“I was a very poor student.”

 

“Really?” he kind of can’t believe it. For someone from another world, she’s successfully managed to understand all manner of subjects at an impressive rate. She’s a quick study, and tutoring her has even helped to boost his grades, so he doesn’t mind doing it. “I can’t really picture you being bad at anything,” he remarks.

 

Rukia smiles wryly to herself. Humans are so funny, they’ll praise you in private, while denying it in front of others. An image is such a meaningless thing, but he is young. “There are lots of things I’m bad at. Teaching is apparently one of them.”

 

It takes him a second, “Hey!”

 

Her laugh is a tinkling bell in the darkness. He doesn’t hear her laugh like that often. Usually if she laughs it’s at his expense, so nothing out of the ordinary here, but at night, when it can’t see her, it sounds different. Free, sweet…

 

“Hey Rukia, you still awake?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I just wanted to say… I’m sorry about today.”

 

“What do you mean? About your family? I like them. You don’t have to apologize for them.”

 

“Oh shit, yeah. Sorry about them too I guess. But I mean… I’m sorry you got hurt.”

 

“I’ve had worse.” He believes it.

 

“Still. You got hurt because of me-”

 

“-I got hurt doing my job-”

 

“-And because I was being an idiot. We’re a team, I know that. I trust you to have my back and take care of yourself. I know I don’t have to protect you, but I want to. I have your back too. I want you to know that.”

 

“Thank you Ichigo.” the rustling of blankets as she turns over. “We make a pretty good team, don’t we?”

 

“I think so too.”

 

“Don’t look so sad.” How she knows he’s looking sad at all, he doesn’t know. But she’s right all the same. “We’ll do better next time.”

 

Despite what he thinks, Rukia is his commanding officer. It’s been a long time since she’s been responsible for anybody. Not since her days in Rukongai leading a raggedy gang. She’s unseated, so she’s never had a supervisory position before. She’s still figuring it out. She knows this much though: anything that goes wrong is her own fault. She drafted him, his safety is her responsibility. She is accountable for him.

 

Her lips press into a thin line, so tight they turn white. She hopes she gets better soon. Without her arm, how can she fight? How can she back him up?

 

How can she keep him alive?

 

.

.

 

In the morning Rukia declares that she will be teaching him some kido.

 

“Smart, that way I can heal your arm.” She has enough power to heal minor cuts and bruises, but nothing so bad as a broken bone.

 

“Are you insane?” She shrieks at the panic-inducing thought, “You’d sooner blow it up than fix it. We’re starting with the basics.”

 

He can’t start with the most basic hado because he only has Rukia to practice on and it doesn’t seem like the best idea to bind her arms around her back right now. She starts him with something like a torch. Just a light; simple. Easy.

 

HAHAHA _NOPE_.

 

He cannot do it. Not even a little. Not even a _spark_. It’s pathetic.

 

“What the fuck, how do I do this?”

 

“You’re not saying the words right.”

 

“I’m saying them exactly like you told me!”

 

“And you have to _believe_ it will work.”

 

“That’s warm and fuzzy and everything but I’ve been able to see ghosts for my whole life, there’s not a lot that’s unbelievable to me.”

 

.

.

 

The answer arrives two nights later, as Rukia discovers the singular frustration of the sidelines. She’s staying out of the way; it isn’t what she’d call her forte.

 

Ichigo exterminates the pair of low level hollows with little issues, but that’s besides the point. She feels useless, and she hadn’t been particularly effective before. She couldn’t even handle a measly, low level hollow on her own. Her cannons are more like pelted rocks- damaging but not maiming, not killing. She estimates that it’ll be _months_ before her powers return enough to do anything properly.

 

Suddenly, a round of applause draws her out of her morose contemplations.

 

“What the hell?” Ichigo mutters quizzically.

 

The pair turn towards the source.

 

_Clop clop clop_

 

A man in sandals and a stupid looking green and white hat strolls towards them. It’s all very dramatic. His eyes are hidden by the brim of his hat, his shoes clop out a steady rhythm. Ichigo instantly does not trust him.

 

“Hi there!” the stranger says enthusiastically.

 

Ichigo leans over sideways to address Rukia, not taking his eyes off of the man. “Oh shit, can he see me?”

 

“It would appear so,” she whispers back.

 

“Now don’t talk about me like I’m not here. That’s rude.”

 

Ichigo swings his sword forward and points it at his heart. “That’s far enough. Who are you?”

 

“The name’s Kisuke Urahara,” he says cheerily, then addresses Rukia. “Now what’s a shinigami like you doing in a body like that?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find us at [ Fiercy ](https://fiercyy.tumblr.com) and [ Holyfuckabear ](https://holyfuckabear.tumblr.com)


	5. Don't Talk To Strangers, Maybe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rukia and Ichigo gain a new ally, Tatsuki studiously avoids being suspicious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter today, but I wanted to get back in the swing of things since I've been preoccupied by being back on my sasusaku bullshit. Gearing up for the big stuff!
> 
> \- Fi

 

 

" _Now what's a shinigami like you doing in a body like that?"_

Rukia tilts her head and Ichigo goes green. "Ugh, that's vile. Why would you say something like that?"

Urahara giggles sheepishly, "Guess that came off less mysterious than I wanted. Oh well, can't have everything."

"Who the hell are you?!"

"Just a local businessman looking to help out some teens in need."

"No thank you."

"No, thank you!" he corrects.

Whoever he is, Urahara rubs Ichigo the wrong way. He grabs Rukia by her upper arm and starts to tow her in the other direction. "Wait!" Rukia protests, wrenching her arm out of his grasp. "Did you say Urahara?"

"What, you know this guy?"

"No," Rukia does that thing she does where she plants her hands on her hips; her disapproving aura is impeded by her cast. "But I've heard of him. Urahara-Taichou of the Twelfth Division. A wanted criminal. He's a deserter."

As she imperiously wrinkles her nose at him, Urahara smiles benignly. "That's me! Glad my reputation precedes me, we can dispense with introductions."

Ichigo wishes they wouldn't. He has no clue what the hell's going on.

"I could make you a replacement gigai and supply you with any other tools and merchandise you might need. For a fair price, obviously. Come by my store. Here's my card."

Rukia snatches it and looks at what appears to be an address for a candy store. "What makes you think I won't turn you in to Soul Society?"

"I think you'll leave me out of your report. If you tell them I'm here they might come to investigate. You wouldn't want that."

"Wouldn't I?"

"I don't think so. Not unless you want them to find out about your pet project," here he gestures at Ichigo.

 _Oh._ I'm  _the pet project._

Urahara turns to walk away, waving over his shoulder. "Come by any time!"

.

.

In his room, Ichigo gears up for a fight. If they're going to be a team, Rukia has to start telling him stuff. He plans out what he's going to say. He is going to be firm and clear.

"What do you think?" she asks, thoughtfully tapping her chin.

This throws him off and he gapes like a dolt. "What?"

"Do you think we can trust him? I couldn't get a read on him."

He hesitates, "I mean, I don't really know the guy. You said you'd heard of him?"

"He was a captain before I ever joined the Gotei 13. No one really talks about it but one day he just left in the middle of the night. He must have been hiding here in the human world ever since. I'm not sure anyone's looking for him, I made it up."

"What do you think he wants with us?"

"Money?" he doesn't strike Ichigo as the type, "Information?"

"Maybe he's lonely," he means it as a joke, but it rings true as he says it. Maybe he's projecting. A little.

His joke is rewarded with a smile from Rukia. "So. What do you think?"

Ichigo frowns at her casted arm, "I think that we don't have much of a choice here. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Famous last words."

And just like that, the team has made its decision.

Rukia flops onto the bed and groans in pain. She always does that; forgets about her human limitations. She's bumped into walls, people and lightposts with her cast a hundred times since she got it.

Usually he'd take the swivel chair, but this time he sits next to her. He bumps his knee against hers twice, "Hey." She sits up suddenly, violet eyes looking at him oddly. "Do you want to talk about what he said back there?"

"Which part?"

_Ugh, so annoying._

"Why would it be bad if Soul Society knew about me."

He's never seen her face do that. It twists into an expressive wince, her voice goes all high pitched, "What I did, when I gave you my powers was… not technically legal."

"WHAT?!"

"STOP FREAKING OUT! Why do you always freak out!"

From the other room, Isshin shouts. "FREE YOURSELF FROM REPRESSION MY SON!"

"Shut UP!"

He's breathing heavily suddenly. He might be freaking out.

"It is against the law for shinigami to interfere with humans, or to transfer your powers to one."

"Is that like… in the rule book? Specifically. Does this situation come up a lot?"

"This isn't a joke."

"I know it's not!"

"If someone from Soul Society comes to investigate, you could be in danger. Your family may be in jeopardy." She doesn't have to illustrate what the consequences would be for her.

"Guess there's no way around it then. We should work with this Urahara guy. He's hid from them this long."

"I think you're right." Rukia sighs and leans into his side. "Do you have any more of those pills from your father?"

Ichigo grumbles, "Maybe no more medicine for you, it makes you weird."

Even as he complains, he stretches his arm around her and keeps steady so she doesn't jostle.

From the clutches of sleep she breathily calls him stingy.

It occurs to him, before he drifts off, that she never told him what the consequences would be for her.

.

.

"Now this is what I'm  _TALKING ABOUT!"_

He's never heard her sound so thrilled.

When they visited the candy shop the day before, without preamble the old weirdo pulled out some measuring tape and went to work logging every circumference he could. Rukia didn't seem as uncomfortable as Ichigo felt.

Maybe it came with the territory of feeling detached from your body. Watching Urahara's hands casually travel up and down Rukia's legs made Ichigo's skin crawl. He wanted to pick her up and take her very far away.

"Next time we come here, maybe change into pants," he mumbled once they were safely outside.

"What do you mean?" Rukia was wearing a long-sleeved, green, cotton dress that once belonged to Yuzu.

"Look just-"

His discomfort must have a distinct flavor because Rukia suddenly looked like a bloodhound who'd caught a scent. "Oooh I see."

"What do you see?"

"Oh, nothing."

"Rukia!"

Urahara had told them to come back the next day, so here they were. Watching Urahara double check Rukia's chest measurements.

"Does no one else find this weird and inappropriate?" he demanded of Urahara's unconcerned entourage.

Urahara pronounced Rukia good to go, "Come in back with me and we'll make the transfer. Ichigo, wait here."

"Oh no you don't!" To Rukia, behind his hand, he whispered, "I'm not letting you go to some back room alone with this weirdo."

Rukia snorted, "Don't be an idiot. I'll be fine."

Despite her attempts to wave him off, he followed her into the shop owners deep dark lair.

Which turned out to be something resembling a regular guest room. Were it not for the Rukia-look-alike corpse tucked into a tatami mat, it would be.

It was chilling to see something so lifeless with her face.

In blink, Urahara was wearing a red glove and shoved Rukia in the chest. Her soul toppled backward into Ichigo, who reflexively caught her under her arms.

"See, not so fun when someone does it to you, huh?"

Rukia's old gigai tilted and fell like a tree. She was so small, her body hardly made a noise. Ichigo's instinct was to reach for her, but his arms were full of Rukia herself. Her self, not her shell. It grounded him and calmed his racing heart.

Rukia's soul was dressed in a thin, white yukata.

She marched over to her new gigai, inspecting it from above. "Looks good." She turned to look at Ichigo and froze.

Goosebumps rose on the back of Ichigo's neck. Rukia looked right past him, seeing something  _beyond._  "What?" he twisted around to find nothing.

Rukia shook her head, "It's nothing." Then she lay down in her new body and sat up again. "Hey, can you two leave?" she held the blanket to her chest and Ichigo realized the gigai was naked underneath. "I have to change."

Ichigo was out like a shot.

Now Urahara piles their arms high with merchandise that they definitely don't need and that he's overpriced. Well, Ichigo's arms are full.

Urahara hands her a bat and Rukia literally drops everything. "Now this is what I'm TALKING ABOUT!" She jumps up and down like he's just handed her a stack of Chappy DVDs.

She takes the bat and gives it an experimental swing. It whistles as it cuts the air.

It's thicker than a baseball bat but shaped the same; made of some kind of black wood-like substance. White bandaging is wrapped around in a grip. A red skull engulfed in blue flames adorns the barrel.

"Careful! You're gonna take my knee out." Her glare and quirked brow are as good as a promise.

"Use it well," says Urahara.

.

.

Rukia has become an absolute terror.

She runs head-first into battles like she never lost her powers at all.

Ichigo is caught between all-consuming anxiety and awe.

Because on the one hand: his conception of Rukia is of the Head Bitch In Charge, she could kill him with a look. She is a terrifying serial killer in the body of a gerbil. He saw her take down a hollow in five seconds flat while singing a pop earworm.

But on the other hand: he's gotten sort of used to looking out for her. He took her powers, so it's his responsibility to protect her with them.

But on the  _other_  other hand: this is  _awesome_. He's got a crime fighting sidekick now! ("What? You're  _my_ sidekick!") They tag team to take down hollows and he's been keeping track of their times; way better and getting shorter by the day. They're a well oiled machine. And yeah, he's a nerd but it's so much more efficient this way. Pretty soon they'll have their own comicbook.

On the  _other_  other  _other_ hand: Rukia has chilled out a metric ton. She hits him about a third as often as she used to. He gets it. Dependency doesn't look good on him either.

He'll never admit it to her, but Rukia looks sort of cool going all berserker on those monsters.

There's a myriad of reasons why telling her to her face would be a bad idea.

.

.

For the second time today, Rukia shouts a shoddy excuse at the teacher before bodily dragging Ichigo out of class, potentially to his doom.

Chad isn't sure of much, but he's 100% certain that he it's best that he minds his own business.

Tatsuki, despite the array of alarm bells going off in her head, can't help but speculate at a flustered Orihime. She doesn't really think they're dating, but her goal by the end of the semester is to ensure that they will be. Purely for her own entertainment, of course.

"I dunno Tatsuki, I think she really did need his help to find her lost shoe."

.

.

_1 Minute and 30 Seconds Earlier:_

The familiar chime of Rukia's cellphone spurred her into action. She frantically looked around. She was sitting one row away from an open window, a soft early autumn breeze wafting in. Ichigo watched her patiently.

The girl pulled her knee to her chest and yanked off her left shoe, then she whipped it out the open window, missing Mizuiro's nose by millimeters. She stood so abruptly that her chair and desk squealed.

"Ichigo! I seem to have lost my shoe. Help me find it!"

.

.

Tatsuki stares at Orihime, willing her to comprehend her own insanity for believing such an obvious lie.

In the row behind them, Uryuu also shoots to his feet. His glasses have slid down his nose, he pushes them back up and makes deliberate eye contact with the teacher. "May I please be excused? I'm feeling ill."

His voice is so stiff and deadpan that it's a marvel that Ochi-sensei doesn't protest.

Tatsuki watches him sprint across the courtyard through the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, we love to hear what you all think! You can find us both on tumblr as [@Fiercyy](fiercyy.tumblr.com) and [@Holyfuckabear](holyfuckabear.tumblr.com).

**Author's Note:**

> Here is a list of some changes you can expect from this reboot:  
> \- Rewriting the rules of the universe so they’re consistent and make sense.  
> \- Ichiruki  
> \- Ichigo’s family backstory is different  
> \- Aging up the characters a little, they’re now 17 at the beginning of the series.  
> \- The gang’s dynamics are going to change and include Tatsuki  
> \- Speaking of Tatsuki, the characters who really should have had some spotlight are going to get some.  
> \- We’re culling the cast of thousands so it’s manageable.  
> \- **Stakes**  
>  \- By this we mean rising action, realistic powerups, and escalation that does not get out of control.  
> \- Rukia gets the goddamn arc she deserves.  
> \- Reducing the length of and amount of fight sequences.  
> \- Soul Society is basically completely different, don’t worry Ichigo will be the layman and Rukia, your exposition fairy. JUST LIKE CANON!  
> \- REAL SORRY IF YOU LIKE KON SUCKERS
> 
> You can find us both on tumblr at [Fiercy](https://fiercyy.tumblr.com/) and [ Holyfuckabear](http://holyfuckabear.tumblr.com/)


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